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life. Winnie stole thither, and reviewed the sorrowful circumstances of her last visit there. Was the grieved tried spirit at peace now? Her eye wandered again about the room, and fell upon the faded velvetbound Bible. She seemed to hear again the low grave tones that bade them Search the Scriptures."

"I wish I could own that Bible," thought Winnie. "How full it seems of her presence!" And stretching out her hand she took up the volume, held it a moment tenderly, and then opened and read in it, examining the frequent pencil marks and notes with earnest interest.

The old housekeeper, who had accompanied her mistress to foreign lands, passed by the open door, and looked in upon her. Then presently the lawyer came to the door, and exchanged a few quietly affectionate reminiscences with her.

"I wish I might own this book," said Winnie, presently. "I wish I had the right to take it away with me. It seems so thoroughly imbued with her memory. I have been trying to find her favorite chapter.

She mentioned once what it was, but I was at the other end of the room and lost the chapter, she spoke so low. But I know it was in St. John."

As she spoke she turned over the leaves slowly. While she was doing this, there floated up to them from the drawing-room below the silver ring of Miss Clarice's musical voice, and then the rippling notes of the piano. The lawyer frowned; Winnie started up nervously.

"O, how thoughtless, how unbecoming!" she murmured.

"I wish indeed you might have the book. I am sure you deserve it most," said the lawyer, kindly.

Winnifred bent down again to the pages, and then suddenly looked up, with a low exclamation.

"Why, here is a paper! This must be the chapter. Ah!"

"What is it?" exclaimed the lawyer, a red flush mounting to his forehead, and beaming upon her a most gratified smile.

"It is a sealed paper, sir; and it says if found by one of her young relatives on the day of the funeral, or upon the morning following, it is to be carried to you," answered Winnie, in surprise.

"Ah, yes; hum-yes! I comprehend her sagacity," muttered the lawyer. "Keep it

very carefully, my dear, and give it to me in the morning, when all are present and I call for it."

"It is, perhaps, some important paper," returned Winnie.

"I think so, certainly. I knew such a one was missing, but I assure you I had not the faintest idea that it was hidden there. Take the book to your chamber tonight. I am bold to give it to you now I take a second thought. Are you going down stairs again?"

"I think not, sir. No, I am sure I shall not." For she could hear Squire Warner calling for Harry in the hall below.

And so she stole away presently to her innocent sleep, thinking once or twice how beautiful it would be, but how very, very impossible, that she should ever own such a lovely home, and could gather her mother and little Ned into such a safe and luxurious haven.

Harry was the only one who noticed her at the breakfast table. The, squire gave her an ireful glance.

"Why is this young woman here?" he asked of Miss Clarice. "I thought she had left the service here, and gone as a governess to the Aspinwalls."

Clarice snapped those bright black eyes. "She is really one of the poor relations, squire. Didn't you know it? But not on our side, I'm thankful to say, such a spiritless thing as she is! She comes from the other side of the house, to be sure, which has no kin to you or me. Well-a day, how nervous I am! What shall we hear, do you think, when that will is read? And hark! there is the summons to the library.”

And the tall young lady swept her flounces before them all as she led the way into the lawyer's presence. Winnie had lingered behind, but Harry managed to whisper:

"O Winnie, if I only receive enough to keep us in bread and butter, I shall defy my father's anger and your prudence. Your cold looks drive ne half distracted."

It was a circle of attentive faces that surrounded him, and the lawyer glanced along them all with keen sagacious eyes, while he motioned for his partner to bring forward the little brassbound trunk which held the papers relating to the estate of the deceased. Producing the all-important will, he read aloud its title and date, and marked well the little stir produced there

by; for the instrument was executed on the very day of the conclusion of their last visit to the place.

He read along the legal formalities slowly and reverently, and paid little attention to the guests' impatience through a long list of faithful servants, who were all remembered by generous legacies. From those who were present among the group in the background came an occasional sob or grateful exclamation. Then her physician, her lawyer, and some foreign friends, each came in for a handsome sum of money, a valuable gem or picture, as the case might be. Keener and more intense grew the interest of the relatives. At last! Their names came together; to each one thousand dollars to purchase for themselves such memento as each individual might choose as a souvenir of their visit to the place.

Blank looks passed from face to face, and the lawyer's keen gray eye took note.

Winnifred hushed her first little pang with the thought, "It will give me a piano again, when I am desperate for one, and still leave my mother enough for her few luxuries."

Still the fine estate to which they had been summoned and a large amount of money remained unportioned. More breathless still grew the listeners, clinging to a morbid hope that still for some favored one there was yet a chance.

The last hope died, however, when a clear wise plan was sketched, by which the place should be turned into a charitable asylum, and the income reserved to support it.

"Such," went on the testament, 66 would be my plan and wish, in case a certain paper should not be presented at the time of the reading of the will. I know that it was my beloved husband's wish that the home estate and its emoluments should be kept in one individual's hands. But with my weak, erring human judgment, I dare not select that individual from out my little band of relatives, knowing how little I should be able to understand the true character of each.

"I have left with each of my young relatives à parting charge. From my own lips they each received the injunction to "Search the Scriptures." There will be but one Bible within reach, and that one

whose thoughts are moved reverently will, I am sure, go to it when returned from seeing my mortal remains confided to the earth. I leave the matter to be guided by Providence in answer to my earnest prayer. Be it therefore understood that the whole provision relating to the asylum is null and void, provided a paper declaring the finder to be the true heir is produced, and given to the executor at the date of the reading of my will."

The will proceeded in more formal and legal terms to reaffirm this singular provision. The signature and the names of the witnesses were read, and then a solemn silence fell upon all. The lawyer looked around him blandly.

"Is there any such paper here?" he asked.

Winnie Lermont had started up, something white fluttering in her trembling fingers; her face was pallid, her eye almost wild.

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Sir, sir-this that I found in the Bible," she stammered. "I was waiting to give it to you. But I don't understand-I never thought-"

"But I understood very clearly. Bring it here, please, my dear young lady. It is sealed, I see. Let us see what it contains."

He stretched out his long fingers, seized upon the little slip of paper, and read aloud, after breaking the seal:

"Whoever hands this slip to the executor of my will, on the date of its reading, is hereby solemnly declared to be the heir of all the property undistributed by the provisions previous to the asylum clause."

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"My dear Miss Lermont, allow me to congratulate you," added the lawyer, warmly. I think it will add to your pleasure to read this other slip, where she says, if her judgment is not at fault, the property will go, with her best wishes, to Winnifred Lermont. She was a woman of keen penetration. I am sure, my dear, that you will never have cause to regret that you obeyed her through disinterested motives."

Winnie stood, like one in a dream, staring about her. She did not see the angry stare of Miss Clarice, nor the profound astonishment and mortification of Squire Warner's face. But she did hear Harry's low bitter cry:

"A great heiress herself-rich and independent, too! Then have lost her for good!"

She turned toward him, thinking only of his anguish, the rosy blushes chasing away the previous pallor of her face.

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"O Harry, Harry, don't spoil my pleasure! What difference can it make-unless -unless your father still forbids you to think of me?"

The squire took advantage of a situation he did not deserve to enjoy. He stepped forward promptly with his most benignant smile.

"Don't think I am quite such a blockhead as that, Miss Lermont. I give you my heartiest blessing." And he had the grace to add, "I ask your pardon, too. I am thoroughly ashamed of myself."

Miss Clarice cast a single glance at Harry's rapturous face, and with a black look for the "insignificant creature" upon whom he bent all his glances, she swept away, followed slowly by her two quondam admirers, who lamented too late the lack of discernment of which they had been guilty. As for Winnie, she did not heed anything but Harry, and from him even she broke presently, and said, earnestly:

"You must let me go now, Harry dear. I must write to mamma, and to the Aspinwalls; and O, I feel almost as if Mrs. Atherten could look down upon us, and see how happy she has made us! And I want to take her Bible in my hands and bless it, not so much truly for the fortune it has bestowed, as for the enduring treasure which her lesson has proved to me most precious of all."

"A noble little creature!"' commented the lawyer, as Winnie glided away. “I hope, upon my soul, young man, that you are worthy of her."

"I am not; I am afraid I never shall be," declared Harry, ruefully.· “But I know one thing; I loved her as dearly, I sued for her hand more earnestly when she was poor and in trouble, than I should venture to do now."

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To think she should obtain this magnificent fortune! muttered his father.

66 Hang the fortune!" quoth Harry, bruskly. "I do not think of it at all, except that it removes her objections and yours. Winnie is herself a treasure so much beyond all price, that such little accessories are of small account. It is only

for the greater favor that my gratitude is awakened."

"Little accessories of this sort are very comfortable," declared his father, with a shrug of his shoulders. "And, for my own part, I think it a very delightful ending to what seemed a most eccentric will, that it doesn't make any difference to us how it was left."

"I beg your pardon, sir," retorted Harry, not minded to spare him the reproaches he deserved. "It does make a vast difference to me; had the fortune been left to me, I should only have won Winnie with your curse. Fortunately for me she is of a more generous spirit; and here she comes."

"I told you before I was ashamed of myself," repeated the squire, ruefully. "I see for myself now that, without the fortune, she is a treasure. She is a wonderful girl."

"Precisely that," echoed Harry, proudly. "Winnie darling, do you hear? Even my father declares that you are one of a thousand, a wonderful girl! And truly, of all things we could have looked for, this is the most wonderful happening."

LOVE LETTERS.-These words recall blue ribbons, locks of hair, miniatures and dead roses, and they are as various as the hands that write them, and the eyes they are intended to bless. Sometimes they carry balm; sometimes bear disguised poison. They may be traced in honest truth and fealty by a rough red hand, that has no grace to lend the misshapen letters, save the beauty of true love in rough disguise; and then a soft white bit of symmetry may hide a lie in glowing tenderness, and sending it like an asp to hide in a rose's heart, to carry death to some believing breast. Some, yellowed by years, and rendered absurd by altered circumstances, are brought out of forgotten nooks to fill the evening hour with laughter at their polly-syllabled vows and verbose adjectives; and others never see the light except in tearful eyes, or feel a touch except a passionate pressure to a faded breast that claims no other idol. Love letters! There are women whom the world calls single, who are as truly wedded to a tearstained package as if it really were the being that it represents to them-who live in the old sweet time of these missives.

PAST AND PRESENT.

BY MATTIE WINFIELD TORREY.

"The mighty future is as nothing, being everything! The past is everything, being nothing!"

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A RUSSIAN PRETENDER.

BY PROF. JAMES MACKINTOSH.

IN the Paris Exhibition of 1867, there was a picture, which, from the horror of the subject, attracted great attention. In a dungeon where a single ray of light penetrated, the water was rushing in, and on the verge of covering a miserable pallet, on which a ragged woman was standing. Still young, she preserved under her poor garments, and the traces she bore of longcontinued suffering, an air of nobility and beauty. The person represented was Tarakanov, the daughter of the Empress Elizabeth, who, according to the legend, had been secretly carried off by Prince Radzivil to Italy, where he tried to make her subservient to his political intrigues, and to proclaim her the heiress to the crown of Russia. This was frustrated by Count Orloff seizing her as his prisoner; and by the command of the Empress Catharine II. she was shut up in a chateau on Lake Ladoga, in a subterranean cell, where she perished during a frightful inundation of the Neva.

Such is the generally accepted version, which has nothing improbable in it. It is well known that the Empress Elizabeth, the daughter of Peter the Great, formed a connection with a grenadier of the Guards, Alexis Rasumovski, and secretly married biu, having two sons and a daughter. Of the sons, the first died early; the second was living in 1800, but having attached himself to the study of chemistry, was killed during an experiment. As to the daughter, who was placed in a convent in Moscow, it was not known what became of her. Hence the romance that attached itself to her name.

A few years ago, the Emperor Alexander II. wished to know the real truth, and appointed a commission to examine the archives, and draw up a report. This was not allowed to be published; but at length a monthly periodical gained a sufficient knowledge of the official memoir, and showed that the facts were not quite in accordance with the tradition. It adds another to the long list of false pretenders to the Russian crown, and shows how many persons may be found to combine in a

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boldly supported intrigue, under the guidance of a woman who displayed skill and cunning, joined to a really inexhaustible invention.

In the month of October, 1772, three strangers, with a numerous suite arrived in Paris, and took an elegant mansion. There was a young lady, of about twenty-five, who called herself Aly Emettee, Princess of Voldomir; a young man, Baron Embs, who announced himself as her relative; and an older one, Baron Schenk, who acted as protector and adviser, managing the expenditure and servants.

The lady was fair, thin and beautiful; her manners were most polished; she was witty and well educated, spoke several languages fluently, and sung beautifully, as she accompanied herself on the clavecin. It was soon reported that she had been born in Circassia, and was the niece and heiress of an immensely rich Persian.

Visitors were not wanting; the house was hospitable, the suppers recherche; among the most assiduous was Count Oginski, one of the heads of the Polish nation, who was then soliciting the favor of the court for his country. Two rich merchants were also received, both well furnished with money and vanity. It was not exactly for their wit that they were admitted, but before a month had passed they had lent large sums to the princess. The Count Rochefort-Velcourt was a still more serious pretender, and offered his hand to the princess, at which she only laughed, without in any way discouraging him.

Great was the surprise one morning among this circle to find that Embs had been arrested, having signed many bills of exchange. It appeared that he was the son of a rich Belgian merchant who had been dismissed from his home. The two French merchants who had leat their money were loud in their demands for its repayment; but Baron Schenk, with calm philosophy, assured them all would be right, and managed to borrow the sum necessary to release Embs. The receptions continued, until one evening, when it was

announced that the princess had dismissed

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